


I didn't mean to fall in love tonight.

by Hotarunokimi



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Celebrity AU, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, M/M, Manager Victor, Mila and Sara are Implied, Model Mila, Model Yuri, Motel, One Night Together, Tall Yurio, bodyguard otabek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 10:18:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10274744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hotarunokimi/pseuds/Hotarunokimi
Summary: Yuri scoffed and kicked the ground, groaning in frustration. “Could you possibly take me away?”“Define away…” Otabek murmured and pushed off the wall, running a hand through his hair.“I think you know exactly what I mean, Otabek.”Five minutes later, Yuri was on the back of a motorcycle and hugging Otabek’s waist as he was driven away from the city. It was exhilarating, feeling the wind whip his blazer and his hair fly free from its stuffy ponytail. He could feel his status slip away, the need to be upstanding depart, and the confused adult becomes a clear minded dreamer.(Or, they abandon a party for each others company)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I WROTE THIS IN LESS THAN 24 HOURS AND I STOPPED WORKING ON A MULTI-CHAP JUST TO PUMP THIS OUT!!!  
> I based this off of one song and one music video:  
> Is there somewhere by (Queen) Halsey  
> Into You by Ariana Grande

With each camera flash, he adjusted slightly; listening to the photographer when to switch poses or change his expression. Yuri bit his lip, hand resting on the fur jacket and eyes half-lidded for the final round of pictures.

He adjusted to the awkward clothes and uncomfortable poses, it was his fifth year modeling and wouldn’t be his last. Yuri remembered the day he was scouted, eighteen and fresh out of high school; no idea what he wanted to with his life. Then Victor, his manager, and ex-supermodel pulled him into this world.

It was hard to believe he was 23 and had been on the cover of so many magazines, modeling with some of the most beautiful women in the world. Not that he cared too much, a selection of them were the worst and most self-centered bitches he’d ever met. Also, he was gay and the days he could pose with other men were much more exciting.

“Good job today, Yurio!” A familiar voice shouted as he stepped off the indoor set, looking up to see the one and only Victor Nikiforov.

“That’s not my name,” The model growled and swiped the water bottle from his manager's hands.

“But I don’t want to get you mixed up with Yuuri!” Victor whined and followed Yuri as he stormed into his makeup room.

He wasn’t in the mood for Victor's shenanigans (granted, he never was) and plopped down at his vanity. Yuri pulled his hair out of the tight french braids, letting the locks fall loose. He figured it was time to get it cut, as it already grew past his shoulders but something held him back. “Yurio…” His manager cried from the other side of the door and he clicked his tongue.

“Fine.” Yuri said sternly, “Come in.”

“Thank you!” Victor swung open the door, grin wide across his face. “Are you still meeting up with Mila?”

Mila Babicheva, one of the hottest models in the business. She was tall, toned, and often greeted fans with the warmest of smiles. Mila was a Victoria's Secret angel and had been in the most high class of fashion magazines, and she was his girlfriend.

Not to his liking, sure she was gorgeous and caring but both of them were gay. It was decided by the company to keep their sexuality under wraps, as it could ruin the image. They weren’t allowed to be with the gender they love but it was okay to ruin the ‘single’ look. It was stupid, offensive, and ridiculous.

So Mila and him dated for the gorgeous couple image, then became the it-couple by occasionally staging dates. It could have been worst; Mila hated the dating ordeal just as much and she often hung out with her actual girlfriend. Yuri was aware how much it hurt her to hold hands with him in public and not the model, Sara Crispino.

“I am,” He finally responded to Victor, kicking off the shoes and wiping off the makeup. Yuri stood up and pushed him out of his room to change into his clothes; exiting in a pair of black ripped jeans and a white t-shirt.

“That’s quite a mellow outfit for you, Yurio…” Victor murmured, then watched as the model pulled on a cheetah print leather jacket. The manager sighed, “Nevermind…”

Yuri stormed down the halls, blasting his music from his headphones to shut out the chatter of employees. He entered the elevator and watched as the doors slid shut but just before they hit each other, a hand caught one side. They reopened to reveal a man in a sleek black suit, loose dark hair styled into an undercut and steely eyes watching Yuri.

He couldn’t hold back a shudder. The stranger joined him on the elevator, seeing they were both headed to the main floor. Yuri then realized the earpiece connected by a coiled, clear cord leading down the gap between his blazer and a collared shirt. He’d never seen this man before, but he was obviously someone important. Not a model, Yuri would recognize him. Maybe a manager?

“Who are you?” Yuri yanked off his headphones, glaring at the man who ruined his empty elevator ride.

“Otabek Altin, bodyguard.” He said, looking over at the model with steady eyes, “And you’re Yuri Plisetsky, model.”

Otabek smiled with a huff, and just as Yuri was about to retort; the elevator dinged open. The bodyguard left with one small wave, walking right out of the building and into Yuri’s thoughts. The model twitched back to life and left to go meet Mila for a date, Otabek’s smile on repeat

-

“You met a man!” Mila yelled, leaning forward as she stopped sipping her boba tea.

“Shut the fuck up, you hag,” Yuri growled, looking around to make sure no one heard that.

The two sat on a beach, two towels spread out underneath them and a rainbow umbrella providing shade above. Mila wore a black two-piece, her hair up in space buns, and circular sunglasses to complete the look. Yuri simply wore his hair up in a messy bun and a pair of plain black swim trunks, but he assumed they looked like they matched. So neither complained about the simplicity of his outfit.

“But Yuri, this is the first time I’ve ever heard you talk about a guy.” She drew out a long sip, “Spill the tea!”

He groaned, regretting the fact he ever brought it up. “His name is Otabek Altin, a bodyguard. That’s all I know about him, he was hot, though…”

Mila hummed, leaning back on her arms as she thought carefully. Yuri looked over, narrowing his eyes because he expected a more overzealous reaction. “What are you thinking?” He asked, a little nervous.

“I’ve heard that name before…” Mila said, looking up then she randomly giggled.

“You are being so weird! What’s your problem?” Yuri growled and followed her gaze which only led to the beach umbrella.

“Don’t you think it’s ironic how two gay people pretending to be straight are sitting underneath a rainbow umbrella?” Mila laughed and Yuri had to look away, not wanting her to know he was smiling too.

-

The lights always blinded him for a couple seconds. Those seconds were terrifying, it was like the whole world was gone and his mind spun as it tried to refocus on reality. Each outfit, each red carpet, each photoshoot created a Yuri he wasn’t familiar with. He loved being someone else but after so many looks, he lost who the real one was.

He didn’t want to complain, he was beautiful by society's standards and was sought after by many women and even men. The thing was that he didn’t want that. He didn’t want the adorning fans or to see his face on magazines. They loved him for who he seemed to be: a fragile doll. Androgynous, docile, pure.

Yuri just felt filthy.

That’s exactly how he felt at that party. He was surrounded by gorgeous people. Models and celebrities that people would sell their soul to just to breath their very air. He remembered exiting the limousine with Mila, his suit complimenting her baby blue dress. They posed for a couple shots on the red carpet then move into the award show.

It was four hours of standing and clapping, then he had to present an award with his ‘girlfriend’. It was his third time presenting so he wasn’t too nervous, but by the time the night was over and he busted wanted to crawl into bed. He was forced to go to an afterparty. That’s where he sat currently, to the side of the dance floor at a small table for two. Celebrities danced to a pop song, holding champagne glasses as they slowly got increasingly drunk.

Yuri watched with mild interest, cradling his own glass; normally he’d just ditch but it’d be bad for his image if he left Mila alone. Though she currently danced with Sara, having more fun than she ever had with him. He sighed, then noticed the familiar face across the room. Otabek stood there with his hands behind his back, eyes scanning the room.

They locked gazes. Yuri smiled and leaned against the table, mouthing something before standing up and leaving through the back exit. Otabek’s jaw slackened and he elbowed his coworker, whispering that he’d be right back before following the model.

He was leaning against the venue’s wall, phone illuminating his face as the music’s volume increased the moment Otabek opened the door. It slammed shut, returning the party to a muffled noise. “You look really hot in a suit?” The bodyguard said, walking over to Yuri and joining him against the wall.

“So you can read lips?” He smirked, “You know I meant like, temperature hot, right?”

“Did you?” Otabek said, and Yuri shrugged.

“Maybe…” He said, looking out into the busy traffic. “I hate this kind of thing. It’s sweaty, gross and gives me a headache.”

“Then why do you go?” Otabek pulled out his earpiece and turned it off.

“Mila wanted to.” Yuri looked up at him, surprised to see he was looking too.

“You’re girlfriend?” He asked, volume dropping as he looked up to make sure no one was watching.

“If that’s what you wanna call her, sure.” Yuri scoffed and kicked the ground, groaning in frustration. “Could you possibly take me away?”

“Define away…” Otabek murmured and pushed off the wall, running a hand through his hair.

“I think you know exactly what I mean, Otabek.”

Five minutes later, Yuri was on the back of a motorcycle and hugging Otabek’s waist as he was driven away from the city. It was exhilarating, feeling the wind whip his blazer and his hair fly free from its stuffy ponytail. He could feel his status slip away, the need to be upstanding depart, and the confused adult becomes a clear minded dreamer.

They drove through the night, going until there was only them on the road and the desert surrounding them. It made him feel alone and isolated, and he loved every second of it. They pulled over at a motel, Yuri laughing as he stepped off the bike and spun happily.

“I’ve never slept in one of these!” He jogged over to the office and bought a room for the night before returning to his side. “You won’t get in too much trouble, right?”

“Not enough to get fired,” Otabek said and took the key so he wouldn’t lose it.

Yuri looked up and gasped, the stars abundant in the night sky. In the city, it was rare to see even one star, but there he could see thousands. It was euphoric seeing them in every corner of his world. Otabek walked up from behind and followed his gaze to the sky, “When's the last time you took time for yourself?”

“Five years ago,” Yuri answered easily and walked over to the motel's luminescent sign, climbing up onto it and leaning against the billboard.

“Will Mila be mad you ditched her?” Otabek joined him, pulling one knee up and resting his head on it as he watched the model.

“I don't care,” He pouted and sighed, turning to look at the man next to him. “Listen, she's not my girlfriend. I'm gay, our company just made us date to create this image of a power couple. I don't like her like that…”

Otabek hummed, eyes wide in shock but he didn't push the topic any further. “What about you?” Yuri asked, nudging him with his shoulder. “You ask a lot about me but I only know your name and job.”

“I don't think I'm that interesting-”

“Oh shut up!” Yuri laughed, “You are much more interesting than every single person at that party. That's why I asked you to take me away.”

“Then, I'll tell you anything.” Otabek smiled, loosening his tie until he could yank it off and unbutton the first couple buttons of his collared shirt.

Yuri clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he thought, wondering what questions he could ask the man of few words. “Tell me about your family and if you have a nickname.”

“Alright, I have a mother and a father, both from Kazakhstan. I also have a younger sister who is now 16.” Otabek said, “As for a nickname, only Beka.”

“How old are you, Beka?” Yuri pulled his legs up underneath him, sitting criss-cross. He turned to look at him fully, smiling as Otabek blinked in surprise. “Mid-twenties I assume?”

“Oh, uh.” He coughed, “26.”

“I guessed correctly,” The model giggled, “Sexuality?”

That question made Otabek blush, just slightly but he still looked away and had to process. It was about a minute before he returned steady eye contact. “Bisexual…”

“Oh?” Yuri smiled happily, now knowing he had a chance with him.

“But I didn't say I was single,” Otabek leaned in and ran a hand through the blond hair, lost in thought as he pulled it back behind his ear.

“First of all, you are.” Yuri leaned forward and set a hand on his shoulder, only to drag it up Otabek’s neck and hold his strong jaw. “Second of all, I'm not single according to the public.”

“So we shouldn't be flirting like this,” Otabek whispered simply, but he still played with Yuri's hair.

He smiled and caught his lips with his own, nothing too intimate; just testing waters as they brushed gently together. “You admit we're flirting,” Yuri smiled and the bodyguard chuckled, “How about for tonight we say we love each other? Have this dangerous, secret relationship. I know we can't be together, but just for tonight…”

“Let's be in love.” Otabek captured his lips again and sucked on the lower one gently before pulling back, grabbing Yuri by the waist.

He pulled him off the billboard and carried him towards the room, spinning and making the model laugh happily. Yuri hugged his neck and couldn't believe Otabek could carry him despite the fact Yuri was a couple inches taller. He was set on the carpeted floor of the rented room before closing the door and looking at the time. 11:00 PM. He had nine hours with this man.

Yuri grinned and looked around their temporary lovebird's nest, seeing alcohol pushed in the corner of the room. “Motels serve vodka and champagne?” He walked over and pulled them up on the small kitchen counter.

“No way, previous renters probably left those.” Otabek looked at the bottles and walked over to his side, “Don't drink them, who knows what they did-”

Yuri was already popping open the vodka, pouring it into the complementary cups and handing one to Otabek. “It was brand new! Live a little.” He grabbed his cup and with one last deep breath, chugged the whole drink down. It had to at least be three shots in ten seconds. “Your turn!”

“Disgusting…” Beka muttered, but he rolled his eyes and downed his drink. He sighed, “Now what?”

Yuri sat on the bed with his refilled cup, that time filled with champagne. “We drink till we're loose enough to be idiots.”

“Then you don't need any more drinks,” Otabek said, smiling as he shrugged off his blazer and untucked his shirt.

“Don't test me.” He retorted, glaring sharply. “You should be a model.”

“I'm flattered,”

“No really,” Yuri sipped at his drink and grabbed Otabek's hand, dragging him to his side and pulling him down on the bed. “If you were a model we could probably do shoot’s together. It wouldn't have to be so secret…”

“Sorry, not my thing,” Otabek laid down and folded his hands on his stomach, watching Yuri set the drink down and crawl on top of him. “You're so distant… I'd like for you to open up a little.”

“How about I tell you a secret?” Otabek hummed and sat up, re-adjusting the model so he sat on top of him.

“As long as it's not you killed someone…”

“I became a bodyguard so I could see you up close.” He reached his hand forward and caressed Yuri’s cheek, running his thumb on the bone just below his eye. “I saw you in a magazine and fell in love with your eyes. I'm not tall enough to be a model and not business minded enough to be a manager. So I relied on my strength and intimidating aura.”

“My eyes?” Yuri whispered.

“Yes, they looked strong and adamant. Like you'd fight someone but also stand for the one you love. It was enchanting…” Otabek leaned forward and kissed him, hand moving to the nape of his neck.

“I like it when you compliment me.” He said between kisses, not wanting them to stop.

But Otabek pulled away and stood up, grabbing a deck of cards before smiling slyly at Yuri. They played hours of speed and poker, betting on the snacks they bought at the vending machine outside. Neither were good at card games so they instead laughed stupidly when the other got increasingly more competitive. One moment that had Yuri in stitches was Otabek being proud of a hand but then realized he was missing a crucial card to win. After that round, Beka refused to play any more card games, throwing his hand at the model in an act of defiance.

Yuri leaned forward, kissing his cheek before dragging his lips against the bodyguard’s jaw. “What made you be a model?” Otabek asked suddenly, moving slightly so he could kiss him on the lips.

“I had nothing else…” Yuri whispered, curling up against his side and resting his head on the man’s shoulder. “I was always told the best thing about me was my body, that I was beautiful but my personality sucked. So I listened and followed a path that relied on my beauty.”

Otabek ran his hands through Yuri’s hair, closing his eyes in thought. “I think they’re wrong,” He breathed, kissing him on the head.

“You just started talking to me, dork.” He looked up, smiling at him.

“Yeah, maybe I’m a masochist…” Otabek opened his eyes and turned his head away only to have Yuri shove him.

“That’s the part where you tell me all the amazing parts of my personality!” He huffed, but he was grinning; messing up Otabek’s hair in hopes of annoying him.

“I just started talking to you, dork.”

They fooled around, shoving each other and tickling the other; meeting once in awhile to kiss. They drank more champagne until both were loose and silly, Yuri jabbering on about mindless stuff. Otabek getting more clingy, hugging him and kissing his neck. Not that the blond cared, he returned each loving touch with his own.

Yuri set his phone on airplane mode, not wanting to see messages rolling in about his disappearance. When he was with Otabek, he wanted it to be only them. Yuri would have just turned it off but he wanted pictures and videos, capturing every moment he could of the man he loved for that one night.

“You have so many tattoos’…” He said faintly, running his hands up and down the biceps of Otabek. They laid on the bed, bodies pressed against each other as Yuri laid half on top of him. Their legs twisted together and breathing in sync; the two cuddled like they’d been lovers for years.

“I get one every year.” Otabek ran his hands up and down Yuri’s spine, tracing the curve and sharp angles of his back.

“I like them…” He whispered.

A part of Yuri wished they could just have sex, but another part said he’d get attached even more. He could blame the flutter of his stomach on the alcohol, the feeling of at home on his internal loneliness. But Yuri wouldn’t be able to explain the emptiness if he woke up naked without Otabek next to him.

“You’re like a cat,” He said, pulling Yuri out of his spiraling thoughts. They locked eyes and the blond moved so his chin rested on Otabek’s chest.

“Thanks?” Yuri chuckled, smiling gently and leaning up to kiss him softly.

“If we were dating-” Beka murmured and the model froze, pulling his mouth away just enough to have a clear vision of him, “-I’d call you kitten.”

“Gross!” Yuri laughed, smacking Otabek’s chest and crinkling his nose in disgust.

“You’re blushing, though,” He said between a chuckle, pinching Yuri’s cheek. “My little kitten getting embarrassed.”

“Stop!”

Yuri tackled him, both laughing as they splattered the other with kisses. Otabek took a great liking to his neck and spent a few minutes marking each side, biting the collarbone periodically. He wasn’t the only one leaving hickey’s, Yuri left a good amount too; rougher and desperate to have every inch of him.

“Yuri,” Otabek said, grabbing a fruit ring from the bag and sliding it onto the models left ring finger, “Marry me for the night.”

Yuri laughed, biting the candy to only have Otabek taking the other side between his teeth. They ripped it apart and immediately locked lips. “Is this our honeymoon suite?” Yuri asked, pulling away only to have Otabek yank him right back into a heated kiss.

-

The sun streamed into the room, right into the eyes of the model and delivering him a rude awakening. Yuri rubbed his face; thighs and back sore as he slowly came to life from his dead sleep. “Beka?” He turned around, expecting to find him there but he was gone.

Yuri sat up, looking around the room to find it just as empty. It was completely clean, all source of their night together missing. He tried to fight back his disappointment, but he himself predicted the emptiness he’d feel. Yuri got up from the bed and walked over to where his phone sat. It was clicked out of airplane mode, revealing all the calls and messages he got in the time with Otabek. Mila sent twenty while Victor sent an alarming fifty along with tens of calls and voicemails. He sighed, feeling all magic from the night before dissipate.

It was then Yuri saw the note next to his phone, quick handwriting on the motel's notepad. He smiled sadly and picked it up, laughing as he imagined Otabek scribbling it down before leaving.

There was a knock on the room’s door, loud and panicky. “Yuri Plisetsky, get out here right now!” A familiar voice shouted:

“Victor…” Yuri groaned and got dressed, hating the fact he had to pull on last night's clothes. He folded the note and tucked it into his back pocket before swinging open the door. “Save the lecture, old man.”

Yuri yawned as he walked past Victor and towards the black car that’d take him away from the motel and back to his mundane life. Victor was still yelling, following him to the transportation and, honestly, Yuri did feel a little bad. Victor looked like he hadn’t slept and when he opened the car door, he felt his gut twist even more at the sight of Mila sitting there.

She looked up, moving over for him as Victor sat in the passenger seat; he was no longer lecturing, just rubbing his temple. Yuri leaned against the car door and pulled out the note, running his fingers against it absentmindedly. “You weren’t alone…” Mila whispered, and Yuri looked up and at the motel that slowly faded away from his sight.

“Not even a little bit…” He said, smiling as the events came flooding back.

Had a lot of fun.  
I texted your manager on your phone  
telling him where you are.  
Call me some time, Kitten.  
2XX-6XXX

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope you had just as fun reading it.  
> I'm currently writing two Multi-Chaptered fics: a vampire AU and the other a Suburbia AU.  
> Hope you'll read read those too!!  
> (One is completely done so I should be posting that soon while the other is in the planning stages.)


End file.
